


of mistletoe playlists and mistakes

by rischaa



Series: five ways to fall in love | jarchie ship week 2017 [4]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Asexual Jughead Jones, Christmas, Denial of Feelings, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, tea: jarchie day 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-16 23:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11263299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rischaa/pseuds/rischaa
Summary: “I said I had a boyfriend- ““Wait, what?”-day 4 for jarchie ship week 2017 | prompt: fake relationship// the jarchie fic where feelings get in the mess of accidentally coming out and pretending while at it





	of mistletoe playlists and mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> been listening to kj apa play "do for love" on repeat on his guitar and it's just so heavenly, kill me.  
> -  
> anyways, here's the third fic (that's fluffier than all of my fics combined with slight angst) and i hope you guys like it. **juggie in this fic is an ace who's okay with kissing (just like in all my other fics). also, there's some triggers of implied homophobia and anxiety. please take caution.**  
>  -  
> hope you enjoy, darlings~

* * *

  _“So I messed up and accidentally came out to my dad over the phone,” his voice is running aimlessly, breathless and nothing still with his shifting hazel eyes giving away his anxious state._

_“Betty, it’s fine, we’ll continue some other time,” he turns his head towards Archie whose head is disheveled and his incomplete look of randomly chosen outfit clashing gives it all away._

_“It’s really late, Arch, what do you need?”_

_“Be my boyfriend during winter break, please,” his head droops down and his hands clasped together as if he were praying in a church which they both rarely did anymore. It takes him aback when he hears the word ‘boyfriend’ leave Archie’s chapped lips but, god, he knows Archie too well._

_“Just because I’m ace doesn’t mean I’m the best option, there are others. Why not take Ronnie or Betty?” he rolls his eyes which is met with an incredulous look repelling his sardonic glare._

_“Maybe it’s because **they’re** spending their Christmas together?”_

_“Okay, fair point, but seriously Archie, Cheryl Blossom is right there waiting for you; why me?” There’s silence when his eyes look down resulting in Jughead packing his camera then focusing back at the redhead music major._

_“I said I had a boyfriend- “_

_“Wait, what?”_

_Continuing and sighing repeatedly throughout the explanation, “I said I had a boyfriend because he kept asking me if I was with Betty but-; she’s in a relationship already, so that left me with the panicked decision of coming out accidentally. Also, I may have mentioned your name and that you’re bringing your sister so that he knows you’re not a complete loner.”_

_“You imbecile,” he mutters under his breath as he shoves his hands into his denim pockets; slinging the camera ‘round his neck. He huffs, realizing that he had to inform Jellybean of this._

_“So, please, please- be my boyfriend, Jug,” Archie fixes his hoodie and smooths out the creases on his grey shirt; then running his fingers through his hair nervously._

_“One condition, Arch,” he shifts uncomfortably as he holds his index finger up with a forced smile._

_“What’s it?”_

_“No getting attached and no kissing,” he breathes out heavily as if he’d just let go of carried burden on his shoulders, eyes set darkly on Archie’s._

_“That’s two reasons, Jughead. But, sure- it won’t happen. Trust me.”_

_“Glad to know my boyfriend can count pettily,” he smiles and pats his shoulder before slamming the photography studio door shut. It echoes loudly as he realizes the possible shock running over Archie’s nerves. Before he can stop himself, a small smile appears on his lips._

_With such rules, everything was going to be fine._

_Then, it became an emotional Christmas wreckage between the both of them._

  

* * *

Jughead can hear the loud rain echoing in the background and the muffled sobs that Archie’s trying to hide. The crackle of the thunder echoes through the call and he can hear Archie trying to say something only for it to end in a choked sob. Jughead can hear him breathing heavily and the slight shiver through the short breaths.

 

He can imagine him; sitting by the curb of nowhere with a soaked mop of dark red hair, the moonlight washing like glum waves of light over him, and the rain hitting him hard like he was anything but nothing. An _outcast_ , in the words he had overheard from Archie’s parent’s argument the night before.

 

It was just a few days before Christmas and here they both were, talking over problems, wishes, mistakes, and vulnerabilities.

 

“—where are you, Arch?”

 

“Jug, the, - uh, outside the construction site office,” it’s quiet after that even after he grabs the umbrella to run miles away to Archie. They don’t turn off the call; it doesn’t matter if their bill’s total this December is higher than normal. The sounds of running, heaving, panting, unspoken names for desperation- all of it calms them both down, even the sound of Archie’s breathing- it keeps them both calm and collected.

 

The rain falls harder by the time he’s near the construction site and the thunder hits ground again. It’s closer- he notices and this supposed fucking boyfriend of his was nowhere to be found in this darkness. The streetlights weren’t helping when they were merely flickering like struggling moths when poisoned; their wings fluttering much more quickly than one would expect. Jughead screams-

 

He screams out his name, his heart lurching with fear and lost collected emotions swayed easily by the call ending abruptly. He screams out his name like it matters, _and it does._ He screams out his name, two syllables coated with hot tears of desperation.

 

_Just where was this bastard of a boyfriend?_

Then he hears his weak voice scream even for a split second and it sounds like heaven has rung its silver and golden bells. Angels have graced upon him and he runs toward the direction from whence it came. The rain drops sting as they hit his eyes and cheeks but that doesn’t matter when he stops in his tracks. He stands there and he almost drops the dripping wet umbrella out of his hands.

 

Archie looks lost and he’s just curled there, legs restricted to his chest and arms wrapped around it. He’s scared, Jughead’s mind provides for his already broken heart. Just like other shards have fell to the dark abyss of pain, another had fallen as he watched Archie look so vulnerable in this stormy condition, the rain like a whip hurting his façade. It’s when he remembers that Archie is different in many ways; there’s the side he’s seen in college, a calm and optimistic Archie who liked music but was on a football scholarship and here was. Another side of Archie that Jughead doesn’t want to see because it’s heartbreaking and he knows this memory will haunt him in his recurring nightmares.

 

He approaches him and opens the umbrella, releasing a muffled ‘ _schlock’_ from the umbrella. The rain drips down Jughead’s eyelids and lips but that doesn’t matter when he sees the relieved look wash over the lost-stricken face belonging to the redhead. His hazel eyes shine and he sees the small smile rise from the tight line Archie had smeared like a mask over his lips.

 

“Let’s go _home._ ”

* * *

He stays asleep next to Archie and he knows he can’t sleep tonight. Not tonight. He refuses to sleep. It’s going to be hell if he does decide for his eyelids to droop heavily. He knows his childhood will haunt him and the voices will scream and laugh. He knows he’ll see Archie there. He knows the voices will tell him _it’s all his fault._

 

And, yes, of course _it is._

 

If he had paid attention- _if only,_ he had done so. If he noticed him gone that afternoon, Archie’s father gone as well. If he had noticed him leaving with him that afternoon. He should’ve stopped him- but _then what?_ What then? What would he have done then? He wouldn’t know what to do at all, but he knows that if anything from he’s seen tonight, he was vulnerable.

 

He watches Archie shuffle in bed; the sheets that covered the both of them three hours ago had all but been stolen by Archie. It’s okay, he decides, even though he can feel the cold breeze pass through the slits of doors and walls. It’s only a slight warm, the generator’s doing its work, but there’s this feeling he can’t shake. A cold shiver running through the hairs on his arms and back.

 

When Archie groans uncomfortably, Jughead realizes it’s probably from the happenings a few hours ago. Archie shifts closer to Jughead and he finally sits up looking at the dark blue covering the room. It’s so dark and blue- something that made him feel like he was swimming in deep waters. Drowning was more of the right word. He was drowning in this unsettling feeling he just didn’t understand. It was killing him knowing it was the last feeling he wanted existing in his heart.

 

He shuffles his way out of the bed and grabs his laptop from his backpack and inserts an empty USB he was planning on using for his projects. He doesn’t work on his projects; he can work on them when he came back even if he knew the pressure was going to physically and emotionally tiring. But after what he’d seen this night, he’d rather listen to his music.

 

It’s three in the morning when he finishes creating the playlist.

 

He falls asleep counting the redhead’s freckles soon after.

 

It’s _warmer_ when he falls asleep.

 

* * *

Jughead wakes up feeling cold. The blankets are on him and they smell of mint. _Mint?_ He racked his brain from where that certain scent that cou- _oh._ They weren’t even his blankets now that he looked at them properly, his vision finally becoming clear after rubbing them open. They were Archie’s; the blankets he stole from him last night. Has he really fallen asleep?

 

He heard the door creak with Archie smiling like he did when he met him in hallways or classes. _Yes,_ he wanted this Archie. He definitely wanted this Archie who would smile like this, his teeth showing and his eyes crinkling at the edges. His happiness very evident. This was the Archie he was used to but- _no._

 

This also was the Archie he didn’t know. This was the Archie who wrapped himself with locked insecurities with keys given to his parents that break him when time was given. Bruises weren’t given nor made, but Jughead knew words were enough to make the heart to crumble into dust enough to be part of cosmic space. That’s two parts of him and maybe, maybe just maybe he wasn’t infatuated with him like he had once thought.

 

Maybe it was the one feeling he most feared for.

 

That damned four letter word.

 

“Jug, breakfast’s ready.”

 

He nods in reply and groggily gets out of bed, folding the blankets as neat as possible as he can. He fails in doing so. The floor feels a tad bit cold but the warm heat the generator makes up for it. Jughead walks down to the kitchen and he’s met with a father and son sitting with tension surrounding them. He doesn’t feel like eating anything all of a sudden.

 

He sits anyway; pouring cereal and milk into the empty blue striped bowl.

 

“Hey, can Jug and I set up the tree today?”

 

There seems to be hesitation before Archie’s father agrees with a slight smile, “I think your mother would like that. She’s coming tonight, you know, that, right?”

 

“Yeah, it’s kind of been a while,” Archie plays with his fork, wistfully looking at the overcooked half eaten scrambled eggs on his plate.

 

“Set yourself straight, tonight will you?” Mr. Andrews says it with a sad smile, adding, “-for _her.”_

 

Archie winces and he finally takes that last bite out of his dry sandwich mad of overcooked eggs and ham. He chews it slowly and downs it quickly with water instead of the coffee he had obviously made. He stands up and brings the dishes to the dishwasher. Jughead joins him soon and Archie leaves hurriedly.

 

He stops by the stairs and announces-

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

It’s quiet. _All too quiet, after._

 

* * *

“We’re not putting mistletoes up, Arch.”

 

 _As if he’d ever let him._ They were such repulsive necessities during Christmas, and the kissing that happened. Weird. _Very weird._

 

“Bu- but, it’s tradition! Mom would always put it up there because, well her dad used to do it for them so there’s that. She’s done it even before she moved to Chicago when-, yeah, uh… and she’s finally coming back for a few days so I re- “

 

Archie has this pretty smile plastered on his face and his eyes twinkled as he looked at the mistletoe in his hand to be hung with rough twine. He stares at it, a copper taste reveling around his taste buds. It tingled in his tongue the longer he looked at it.

 

He’s going to regret saying his approval.

 

“Fine, Arch. We’ll put it up,” he budged, giving him the mistletoe he had managed to sneak away from Archie’s clutches, “Remind me why I agreed to this plan?”

 

“Because I’m not hell, Jug,” Archie soon added, “-and, yes, I know that hell is other people, but I, Archie Andrews-

 

“Archibald Andrews, you mean.”

 

“No, shut up, Forsythe,” Archie shoved him, his hand on his hip and the other pointing to the ceiling with a smirk on his face, - but I, Archie Andrews, am the opposite. I am but mere heaven to spend time with.”

 

“You _are_ terribly insufferable. I don’t even know why I agreed to this,” Jughead groans as he walked back to the tree and hung a glittered yellow-gold bauble all the way up near the peak of the freshly cut tree they had ordered.

 

“Oh, come on, you love me.”

 

“I take back anything I said. You’re hell.”

 

 _“Sure_ , but that’s what you always say,” Jughead feels a tuft of hair tickle his earlobe as he reaches out to hang another stupid bauble up the tree. The warm breathing is soft and relieving, almost too calm for the moment. It was a change from the previous playful atmosphere just a few minutes ago. But it was good enough.

 

Archie’s smiling, Jughead knows, even if it was a slight tug at the corners of his lips. He knows their current standing isn’t as comfortable as one would seem, considering their heights. The yellow lighting contemplated the yellow baubles being put up and it warmed the cold white living room, curtains open and windows frozen with cracking white ice. It was so quiet and soulful, the way they just stood there, hands full of baubles and a mistletoe. Leaning on his shoulder, it made Jughead feel like he was _something_ for once.

 

Archie leaned for him, he was something he held onto. Jughead knows this too well. It’s frightening to feel like so. It’s frightening to know that there are so many different sides to Archie he hasn’t seen. It’s like he doesn’t know which Archie to trust anymore, but _this. This_ Archie was one he could. Everything silently laid bare and innocently with weapons of war set down.

 

It’s tiring, he knows because he’s been there. His father hadn’t accepted him, so he knows the physical pain growing with poisonous vines around his lungs and heart to suffocate him. It tightens its grip every once and then reminding him he was alone.

 

Jughead reaches his other hand to move Archie out of the way for a more comfortable position. It doesn’t feel right to do so, but his feet felt like they were static pins and needles. He had to sit down at some point.

 

“Little longer, please,” it’s soft and fragile like glass.

 

“Let’s sit down, then.”

 

_“Mmkay.”_

* * *

It’s quiet as he stays up, white light emitting from his laptop, adding the last song to the playlist, biting his lip anxiously. He glances behind him to find the bed completely empty then quickly checking his phone to see no replies from Jellybean. He frowns at that and clucks the roof of his mouth loudly- _just where was he?_

 

It’s unbearably quiet pulling the very well creased sheets closer to his body pooling carelessly on the lightly heated floor. He sighs heavily and picks his phone, pressing for his speed dial, his hand hovering over her number. Both of them weren’t here; Archie was somewhere far and he really wasn’t making a great showcase of them being together. If he was hur-, no, he wouldn’t be. But then, his mind fleets to what’s happened only the night before. Confrontations were probably made that noon and prolonged until night. Archie was fragile and yet he often hid his secrets, only having the best intentions, even if it made him bitter.

 

It’s been a long three years of college with one more to go, and he’s, _no,_ they’ve gone so-

 

“Yes, _yes,_ I’m coming, you doofus,” her voice sounds hushed and the sound of the wheels hitting bumps is easily heard. There’s whispers in the background and a slight trickle of snoring too.

 

“Do you even remember where Riverdale is?”

 

“Of course, well, we weren’t really part of the North Side but we- “

 

“Want me to pick you up?”

 

Of course, choosing to trail her way out of _that_ subject since he knows she hates being picked up, she asks the most obnoxious and frightening question. It’s scary and she knows it- they’ve both had the complex of hating asking such questions even if it was said in a certain sarcastic tone.

 

“Whoa, don’t tell me,” he can hear her smile across the call and he scowls, “you’ve fallen in love with him?”

 

“Ha. Ha. _Ha._ Very funny, Jellybean, very fucking funny.”

 

“Don’t swear in front of the kids!” she faked a gasp and then releasing a chuckle making him smile.

 

“Are you, though?”

 

“It’s… I don’t really know. I haven’t felt this calm and confused or even needed since,” he halts before continuing and it hangs aimlessly in the air. He realizes he’s just laid it out bare.

 

“So, you’re in love.”

 

“No, I’m not. But there’s eggnog here and if you dare breathe a word of this to Archie, and you will not get a single drop of this heavenly fucking drink. _Not a single drop,”_ he breathes and says every word slowly as if treading on slow waters where mysterious danger seemed to lurk beneath.

 

“Cinnamon? Nutmeg? Enough cream?”

 

“What do you think of me?”

 

“Someone stupid enough to forget to add the rum,” she clucks her tongue loudly.

 

“ _Sacrilege!_ That’s only happened once!” Jughead fake gasps with a cheery smile on his face.

 

“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” she hastily adds and he knows she’s rolling her damn eyes.

 

“I’ll pi- “

 

“No! Don’t you dare pick me up!”

 

He laughs as it’s hung up annoyed and he turns his phone off, shutting away light; then slumping to the side of the bed. He anxiously looks at the empty bed, then the ticking clock.

 

Still not back- it’s oh so quietly empty.

 

His eyelids stay awake.

* * *

“So how’d you meet?” Mary asks, her eyes very brightly interested.

 

“Yeah, brother mine, how’d you meet Redhead over here?” Jellybean smiles at them innocently to which she earns a deadly glare.

 

“I’ll take this, Jug,” Archie chews another piece of his steak then cheerily looks at him, “We met at a French, or was it Spanish? No, it _was_ French. Yes, French Class; he sat behind me and I may or may not have tried to flirt in French, cause that’s what nervous Freshman Archie Andrews would do and-“

 

“-And then I cursed back in French just because I hated narcissistic guys like him, but he wasn’t like that really after that incident. Yeah, music and-“

 

“It wasn’t _just_ music, Jug!” he threw him his offended look then continuing as he shoved butter soaked mashed goodness into his mouth, “I was playing part of the song after college hours and he was, what were you, oh right! You, Jug, finished his photo session with Betty,” at the mention of their blonde friend Mr. Andrews looked interested into their conversation, “-and he caught me playing it, then he took a picture of me. That picture may I add is phenomenally beautiful, just pointing that out there.”

 

“I’m not that good, Arch,” he rolls his eyes, “I was a damn freshman and we became friends after two weeks of countless persistent smirks and insinuations. We hung out and we helped each other out and uh- he accidentally came to my dorm drunk and he kissed me out of nowhere. _He kissed me,”_ Jughead made it sound shocking as if it were one of the things Archie would never do to him, “-and that ended up in a huge mess.”

 

“Betty and Ronnie had to make us speak to each other, but I made Archie apologize and we made a truce that it never happened- until Cheryl had to come in and kiss Archie at this frat party I decided to go to with Archie. We got into another fight- “

 

“Yeah, that lasted for two months, was it?” Jughead nods, “-we made up and I asked him to be my boyfriend at a café after spilling it too,” Archie smiles widely before taking a drink out of his glass, “He said yes.”

 

“No, I did. Not,” Jughead takes a bite of the laid out buttered mushrooms on his plate.

 

“Hold up, so no big romantic gesture or anything? Have you guys even kissed?”

 

“Jellybean…” he sends a wave of hostile warning towards her.

 

“We like to take it slow, Jellybean, is it alright if I call you that?”

 

“Yeah, yes, Redhead, you may,” Jellybean replies as she pours herself another glass of water.

 

“That was such an endearingly cute story, don’t you think so Fred?”

 

"Mary, I'm not so sure about being okay with this,” Mr. Andrews pipes in the opinion they’ve all been waiting for this entire dinner. Forks and knives halt and hover as only one pair is heard clinking against porcelain creating heavy tension. Jughead’s eyes veer over to Jellybean who’s frowning and has let down her utensils. Archie’s hands fall down to his side which Jughead instinctively grabs as if were so natural. Jellybean’s eyes light up at the moment as well as Mary’s noticing their subtle intertwining of hands under.

 

“I think it’s honestly fine, Mr. Andrews. Archie’s twenty-two and he’s old enough to know his _preferences,”_ she replies taking a sip out of her glass of water uncomfortably.

 

“Mary, he had a choice to not veer like so,” at that Archie’s hands grip tighter and Jughead feels like he can’t breathe. It hits too close to home where he’s gone through it once. Once was enough to break everything inside him adding to the pain after Jellybean and his mother left. Going through it again with Archie only lowered the blow just a bit. But it very much obvious that Archie was struggling to choke it all back behind his throat.

 

“Fred, let him be, he’s just a kid. He has his own rights,” Jellybean looks down at her mashed potatoes and forces the steak she’s chewing down her throat accompanied with an urgent drink of water.

 

Just as Mr. Andrews was about to say something else, Mary continues, “Fred, I don’t know why we’re talking about our son’s sexuality when we could be obviously enjoying this wonderful Eve dinner,” to which Archie sighs with relief.

 

Mr. Andrews opens his mouth once more and it no longer resembles his words. They’ve become horribly fused into words he had buried under his feet four years ago and now… _now,_ they were back. Ringing loudly in his head were the voices he’s heard nonstop once out of lashing anger hitting him with whip-like strength.

 

He can remember the darkness with little light pouring inside his father’s trailer and the screaming. His breath hitches and it’s held in for longer than a minute making him gasp subtly. He shakes the feeling away but all he can hear is the overbearing words of his father. He had buried it so deep and yet here it was haunting him in the worst possible timing.

 

“Jug, it’s okay, you can breathe now,” his arms are gripped by Archie and his eyes are searching for any sign of hurt, “-they, they’ve gone out for a while after- “

 

“Don’t pity me! You haven’t even- _sorry,_ Arch,” he lashes out, fingers shaking then calming down.

 

“Come here, let’s just- “

 

He feels a shove and Archie’s eyes widen as he’s dragged along with the shove. Jellybean yells, “Nope! You aren’t going anywhere! Nowhere!” She then settles on the couch as if nothing has happened after the opening door reveals Archie’s parents dusted with snow. They remove their shoes and Mary smiles dearly towards them.

 

He looks at Jellybean, noticing the damned mistletoe above them, and sees that mischievous smirk on her; her eyes then turning apologetic and soft as he notices Arch looking the same way. She mouths a ‘sorry’ and he glares at her with hostility which earns him a meek laugh escaping her lips.

 

“We should- “

 

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Jug,” he murmurs.

 

“It’s going to look real damn stupid if his boyfriend didn’t kiss his partner, huh, Arch?”

 

“Yeah, but- “

 

That’s when he feels the burning gaze on the both of them as their banter goes on and of course, this is the moment Archie decides to speak, his voice shaking.

 

“I can’t breathe,” his eyes are shifty and looking at his parents. He can hear the holding of breaths and the curve of Jellybean’s lips lifting upwards. Archie’s standing in front of him, his red hair disheveled and his breathing, so slow, god it was so slow. He wanted something out of this. They were right under it too; he could just go ahead and do it.

 

“Archie,” Mr. Andrews’ voice resonates throughout the living room startling Jellybean herself who shivers behind his back. God, sometimes he wished Mr. Andrews was a ticking bomb, and somehow Archie has managed to push all of the buttons creating a man disappointed in his own son.

 

He whispers it softly and confidently, “Look at me.”

 

And he looks at uncertain hazel eyes and it’s a wrecking storm. He notices Archie’s lip tremble and he’s being ruled by his own fear. His own fear, standing meters away from them and very much close to the door and there’s mistletoe. It’s swirling in fear, consuming everything Archie is.

 

The freckles on Archie’s face were ridiculously flushed pink and his eyes were so lost. They’re so close, so damned close, if only one of them would-

 

 _“Look at me,”_ he repeats as he grabs his shoulders steadily, holding him in case he’d fall.

 

It’s nothing but a swift movement to close the gap between them. It’s different kissing Archie. His lips connect almost hesitantly to the redhead’s and god; he could drown in his taste; rum lacing around his lips and he- _god._ Archie’s once slow breath has no become rapid and fast and _this,_ Jughead realizes is what he’s wanted when he saw him before his eyes after being pushed. He wants Archie breathless and it’s intoxicating.

 

There’s a surge to kiss again as he pulls away with Archie falling in, his eyes are darkly lit like a campfire burning at night. He looks betrayed after being lured into this. Jughead’s lips curve into a smirk and he sees the slight grin appear on Archie before he tilts his head, dipping once again. Archie’s eyes aren’t lost anymore; it dances with sparks of celebration of finding the eye of the storm.

 

Archie presses deeper into the kiss, a satisfied exhale of breath, as it lasts only for what seems too short. It finishes all too quickly, but there’s only three smiles existing in the room. He’s not sure if he’s even playing his part anymore after _that_ happened.

 

He looks at Archie smile wistfully at him.

 

Yeah, he isn’t sure anymore.

* * *

It wasn’t supposed to mean anything at all but here they were, lips flushed pink and breathless, their eyes uncertain as they turned their heads towards them. Mr. Andrews had never looked so confused and disappointed and at this moment, he could feel it directed towards him as well. Right there and then, he felt Archie’s warm palms slip into his shaky cold ones with a tight grip.

 

Everything felt tight. His heart and chest had never felt so tight; this was unusual. When had, his heart ached so much? When did this all start? This was so different from what he usually felt; which was normally neutral upon certain things unless it involved his family which has his weakest point if anyone ever noticed. He usually felt the need to be protective over things he cared and somehow these past years, Archie had managed to slip through the cracks of his façade and become one of those.

 

One of those he cared about and now he was stuck in this tight mess of truly feeling things like never before (that one time back in fourth grade means nothing, he chides himself). This tight feeling in his heart doesn’t even compare to the reassuring grip of Arch’s hand. He returns the grip and sighs heavily as circles are suddenly being rubbed around his hand.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to kiss you,” he whispers next to his ear leaning.

 

“It’s alright; it’s just part of the act, right? All I’m scared of is- “Archie’s breath hitches as the red-haired woman, Jughead supposes is Archie’s mother, has a smile on her face. The circles stop and as soon as that happens they’re forced into a group hug which makes him gasp.

 

The hug never felt so tight just like this situation he was in. He had never felt the feeling of wanting to wriggle out of this uncomfortable hug he was forced into. His lungs felt like they were burning and so was his skin. All he wanted to do was to wriggle out of this tight hug and thankfully, it seemed as if Arch’s mother had gotten the gist and let go and hugged Archie once more. He took that moment to slip away, Mr. Andrews’s gaze following him as he took every moment to sit next to Jellybean drinking eggnog on the red couch.

 

“Who decorated the living room?”

 

 _“We_ did,” he mumbles as he tries to steal her cup from her.

 

“It’s nice, I guess; but it’s too yellowish and bright,” she bites her bottom lip, her eyes shifting around to look at the tree, “the tree though. That’s a complete different story- it’s really pretty.” A strand of her hair falls in front of her forehead which she whisks back behind her ear, then quickly stealing a glance at her brother who seems so out of place. She follows his gaze and finds it settling on the tree.

 

“Did something happen when you were-?”

 

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he says it slowly and carefully.

 

“I’m not going to apologize by the way, for pushing you,” she sighs heavily, setting her cup down the coffee table next to the vanilla scented candles. Jellybean turns to look at the family who seems to be discretely trying to keep their conversation under the control of no screaming. Her eyes then turn to her brother’s whose hands are fidgeting, like he does when he’s anxious.

 

"It’s all fake, this isn’t real,” he huffs and closes his eyes and looks at his sister, “-so why the hell am I so damn anxious?”

 

“Because you made it real, Juggie,” she smiles at him which makes him bite his lip hard.

 

“I wouldn’t. I’d never do that to myself. When we go back to our normal college life, this is just going to be a joke. He’ll forget that I’ll be giving that USB and it’ll just be a joke and- “

 

“Whoa, slow down. Did you just say USB?”

 

“Yes, Jellybean,” he mutters harshly under his breath and his legs go restless, “–and, and it has this… this playlist. It doesn’t matter. I’ll probably never give it anyway, it’s just some random- “

 

Jellybean interrupts him and grabs both his shoulders facing him, “You’re giving him this gift and I’m going to make you because obviously, the kiss wasn’t enough to make you guys realize the pining can stop.”

 

“Okay, first of all, I’ve never really pined for anyone. Except for-,” her mischievous eyes glare at his, “-okay, look I will. But, _I don’t_ pine for anyone.”

 

“Look, I’m just good old Jughead Jones who’s the asexual friend of Archie Andrews who’s just come out as bi accidentally because he’s an idiot. We’re two idiots who decided to kiss each other in front of his sensitive parents under a fucking mistletoe and _no one’s pining for no one._ This is going to stay fake and that USB is going to be thrown into Sweetwater River,” he huffs and looks straight through Jellybean’s determined eyes which turn soft and dreary.

 

“Stop that, you’re hurting yourself,” she pries his fingers away from his palms which are a sore red; then bringing him into a hug. He pushes away from it and looks away. It’s silent after that and the stillness rattles his nerves as the incoherent voices suddenly become louder.

 

“It doesn’t work that way. _I can’t stop- I ca-_ ”

 

“Then try,” she rubbed circles around his shoulder, her eyes concerned.

 

 _“Try?_ I’ve been trying since you and mom left me; trust me it’s never worked,” his laugh hitching as if her words were a mere joke.

 

“One more time, Juggie. _For Archie.”_

 

“One more.”

* * *

They’re outside, the blurry night dawning upon them with the beautiful dusting of snow falling on their hair. The street lights softened the rough pavements their boots crunched over the accumulating snow. Jughead plays with the USB in his thin cotton blue hoodie inside his pocket and felt a shiver run down his spine. His hands feel terribly frozen even though he’s spent quite a few minutes warming them in his pockets.

 

They stop by the park where the lights dawn over the snowed over asphalt ground along with the bent over branches carrying scoops of snow. There were no birds’ chirping that filled the empty void of atmosphere around them. Jughead looks at Archie who’s glancing at the falling snow, smile evident, and it’s reminiscent of when he had met oblivious Archie playing music outside the boy’s dorms.

 

This. _This is what he had signed up for._ He came to spend just a little more time with him and see the smile he’s wearing this very moment. He came because he was given an opportunity to not feel lonely. He came because Archie had never looked so guilt-stricken for saying his name nor had he seen Archie beg. He came because he was alone four years ago and it was the least he could do for someone like him.

 

He came because of Archie Andrews and if it was in his power, he’d protect him. He’d help this stupidly oblivious _friend_ of his.

 

"Jug, don’tcha think it’s just tiring to live?” he lets Archie talk as he finds his seat right next to him on the cold bench, “I used to be fine with it and then it just… it just got so damn overbearing to do the same thing over and over again. Just playing football because I needed a scholarship for it and it’d help me. I couldn’t even play music, for dad it was just a hobby and-” Archie pauses to fidget with his red tipped fingers and breathes heavily, “- and until now I know he cares about me but _this_ is me. I’m not the Archie he wants.”

 

“You’re still a nothing but a good ol’ carrot top, aren’t you? You’re the idiot who would accidentally say the shit he’s not supposed to and get me into trouble. You’re the asshole who’d sprint across the campus to tell me so and destroy my almost done photo shoot with Betty,” Jughead slaps the back of his head with a cheeky tone behind his words.

 

“Yeah, we’re still definitely friends after this,” Archie laughs. It brings a pang to his heart.

 

There’s silence that’s killing him from the inside and he can’t breathe. Archie doesn’t seem to even notice. Typical. He takes a deep breath again.

 

“You’re really quiet, Jughead,” yes, of course, Archie would notice that instead. He brings out the USB piquing Archie’s attention. He turns it around one time, then another. Archie lays his head on his shoulder, the bastard trying to get his attention in another way that’s just not good for his heart. He usually hated anyone touching him but Archie was a different situation. There was no sense of fear but it was calm and warm.

 

“This is for you. Uh- I made it for you, I guess.”

 

“I know,” Archie says, nuzzling in closer, “I saw you the other night—you were there just making it while talking to Jellybean… and uh- you looked really happy by the way. Sorry if I made you bring her in; I know it’s hard with- and uhh… yeah.”

 

“Were you stalking me, _you, stalker?”_

“What? No, Jug!” Arch jolts and looks at him shocked.

 

“Just joking, you imbecile,” he punches his arm and lets the curves on his lips lift upward.

 

“Thanks, by the way,” Archie’s smile is wide and he’s brought in a quick embrace which is broken apart too early. He lingers and when Archie’s eyes return from shoving the USB in his pocket, it’s so warm; his hazel eyes melt the cold blue of their surroundings and his as well. It’s so warm and Jughead doesn’t feel the shivers running around his skin no longer.

 

It’s warmer when the gap is closed and it’s a soft type of warmth. Not hungry like the flames of a fire, but gentle the flame held by the candle that can hold potential to dangers. It’s gentle like the color of the Christmas lights they put up that afternoon. It’s gentle and extremely slow, not like the overwhelming waves an hour ago under the dastardly plant.

 

Cold tipped fingers brush against his pale, freezing cheeks to roam under his hat, then weaving through the intricacies of his curls. It’s slightly messy with the both of them trying to steal the dominance of this connection of lips. Slightly messy yet still warm and enough to drown in under this cold weather.

 

There’s this sense of incomplete finality of wanting more and they linger. They linger; their motions linger. The feeling of the warmth burning through his red lips touched by gentleness and his hair disheveled as a natural result. Their eyes linger at their lips then back to their eyes. It’s this sense of knowing there’s something like an attraction. A realization that scares the both of them. It’s something that makes them realize they’ve long crossed the line of what contained friendship.

 

They’re too close and Jughead all but wants to go closer.

 

“I’m scared,” he whispers, breath hitching; tearing away from hazel irises.

 

He’s pulled in, slowly and closer. It’s safe, calm, and warm just like time when they hung up Christmas lights and the mistletoe. There’s hanging closure and it finally closes when Jughead ends up burying himself in the crook of Archie’s neck searching for warmth. He feels the vibrations against the side as Archie opens his mouth to mutter only for his ears to hear-

 

“I know, I am too.”

 

“You’re being sappy, Arch,” he pulls away from him, feeling the cold hit his skin.

 

“Shut up, Jug, you are too,” Archie laughs.

 

“Why did I agree to being your fake boyfriend, again?” he huffs, raising his left eyebrow at him, a smirk replacing his neutral smile. And of course, Archie changes course, “I’ve got your present sitting on my desk, y’know.”

 

“Right- of course, I’d- “he scoffs and rolls his eyes and Archie pushes him out the bench. They’re walking back now and somehow it’s warm in such temperatures. Really warm.

 

“Tell me later, Jug.”

 

_“Mmkay.”_

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked that and leave a kudo or comment if you did~  
> -  
> hmu on mah [ tumblr](https://chrischaa.tumblr.com/)  
> if ya wanna scream about jarchie or beronica or riverdale or or anything basically


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